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The Corellian League Back Story - Chapter One - Part 4
Several months after their arrival on Corellia, Noval discovers evidence of possible Sith infiltration and control over local and Republic governance in Coronet City. He mounts a lone investigation, keeping it from Tormax and the others. Within days the Jedi Consular has disappeared. Not even Captain Tirnel is able to uncover information as to his whereabouts. After many weeks Tormax resigns himself to the reality of his former Master’s grim fate. The band of Jedi and their smuggler colleague are now faced with a troubling dilemma. Master Noval had refused to appeal to the Order of Corellian Jedi for assistance. Too many of them had rescinded their convictions, and by accepting the Treaty of Coruscant violated the doctrine of the Jedi and the independent spirit of Corellia. Even so, Consular Tormax now walks an uncertain road. Coronet City rots from within. Without allies Tormax and his companions cannot hope to right past and present transgressions.' ' “What would you do?” Tormax asked, eyes fixed on the worn metal of the floor. Bel Drayson looked sincerely introspective, the old Jedi considering his next words carefully. “Difficult to say.” He raised an eyebrow. “Our present situation is precarious for certain.” “Why can you never give us a direct answer, Uncle?” Perth said in a fluster, flicking off the archive datapad he had been perusing. “Perhaps indecision is the Order’s greatest flaw.” Bel lowered the raised eyebrow and cast the young Consular a droll look. “Be cautious with your tone, my young Padawan.” It had been several years since last Bel Drayson had referred to Perth as Padawan, but it had the desired effect. “Yes, Uncle.” Perth said sheepishly. Tormax was not so cowed over. “He may be right, Uncle. Your cousin thought so.” The unexpected reference to Noval Colton caught Bel by surprise. He pursed his lips and tilted his head to the side. “Noval believed a great many things…and he was always bold. Perhaps too bold.” Tormax felt the touch of anger and sought to restrain it. “Bold or not…clearly he was close to the truth. He would not have been taken otherwise.” “Be careful with your assumptions…though it sounds as if you have answered your own question.” A smirk twisted at the corner of Bel’s mouth. Tormax drew a deep breath, a perilous road foreshadowed in a trembling exhale. “I have…we will seek out allies and put an end to the wound that festers at the heart of Coronet City. No matter the odds.” But while the Order of Corellian Jedi may have rescinded some of their more rebellious principles and failed to overtly oppose the Treaty of Coruscant, Tormax and his companions were not the only Jedi taking matters into their own hands. Wes Colton, a young Jedi Knight and child of Corellia had long searched for his spiritual calling within the order. Vacant memories of a Jedi father dead since he was but a small child consumed him. And while he found brotherhood with the Jedi, his true destiny seemed ever elusive. It was not until Coronet City suffered beneath the Sith onslaught that Wes embraced his fate. As Corellia suffered still within the frigid clutches of the Galactic Cold War, Wes Colton struck out on his own. ''He remembered this place well. It was one of the few memories from before his mother’s untimely death, before the Jedi, that he recalled with any fondness. Jedi Consular Wes Colton’s gaze drifted to his feet, watching wistfully as the dark, leather boots parted the grass. He stood atop a raised plaza, a park of sorts, situated in the shadows of the maglev rails that ran overhead. Before him was a fountain he had played in as a child, now crumbling to white fragments and barren. Surrounding him were trees, leaves various shades of red and trembling in the warmth of a late afternoon breeze. '' Wes bore the traditional green outer robes of the Corellian Jedi, his outer tunic light tan, and a tabard that hung to mid thigh a rich burgundy. The angular features of his face seemed at odds with the feathery wisps of blond hair dangling across his brow. One arm lay across his torso, the elbow of its mate resting upright atop his forearm, fingers clutching the smooth, tan skin of his chin. He studied the fountain with vibrant intensity emanating from his auburn eyes, as if he might conjure it to life once more. The whirring hum of several blaster power packs behind him stole the moment. “What have we here?” The voice was raspy, a grating mix of ignorance and vehemence. “I didn’t know Jedi were gardeners too.” Nonchalantly, Wes turned, face unflinching and eyes passively intimidating. Faced by a dozen or so gangers, Sons of Tyrena as best he could make out, Wes merely folded both arms across his chest. The leader of the pack, a rat-faced fellow wearing a battered suit of CDF urban riot gear, took a few strides ahead of the others. “Whatcha say, boy? This is Sons territory now.” “Interesting,” Wes mused coolly. “This is Coronet…not Tyrena.” “And what of it?” The ringleader spat. “The Jedi ain’t nothin’ here. Bunch of whipped dogs run off to pray on Tython.” The air about Wes took on a wholly more threatening aura. “Your ignorant mind cannot even begin to comprehend the losses the Jedi suffered defending the Republic. I haven’t the stomach to even try and explain it to you.” Several of the gang leader’s cronies chuckled. He knifed a threatening glare at all of them in turn before snapping his head back towards the Jedi. “Go on…have some more fun at my expense.” He waved the blaster threateningly. “Your Jedi tricks ain’t getting’ you outta this mess.” The ganger sneered. “You ready to die for this landfill?” With a shrug of his shoulders and subtle movement of his arms, Wes threw off his robe and let his arms dangle casually at this side. “I am,” he said at last, the calm and collected smile on his lips practically inviting what happened next. Unwilling to lose any more face in front of his crew, the ringleader whipped up his blaster and did not hesitate to fire. In a whirlwind of motion, as the blaster righted itself, trigger was depressed, and the tibanna gas was energized by the power pack, Wes Colton’s lightsaber leapt from its latch on his utility belt, flaring to brilliant, pale blue light before the hilt was even clutched firmly in both his hands. The Jedi’s quick upward swipe of the blade was already in motion as the compressed beam of intense energy particles leaped from the muzzle of the blaster. The lightsaber flared brilliantly as it redirected the plasma bolt, sending it with impossible precision back at the ganger. It struck the Corellian between the eyes before he even knew what had happened. The rest of the Sons of Tyrena looked down on the smoldering ruin of their former boss, several wary gazes climbing with trepidation back to the Jedi. As discretion and intelligence were not foremost amongst a common thugs prime characteristics, their blasters came to bear on the lone Jedi. “If you wish,” was all Wes would say. “I’d just as soon you didn’t,” a new voice countered. Behind the gangers, a squad of CDF troopers led by Lieutenant Theydon and Corporal Connor took up defensive firing positions around the entrance to the plaza. Bewilderment and panic began to take root within the leaderless thugs. “We are within rights to burn you down, right here…right now.” Theydon gave the words a long moment to sink in, all the while passing tactical targets to his squad mates from the HUD within his helmet. “But that won’t be necessary will it.” He ignored the whimper of disappointment from Dre who had saddled up beside him, blaster rifle trained on a ganger’s head. After a few tense moments of indecision, the gangers finally slinked away into the shadows of Coronet City’s underground. With the area clear, Theydon and the other troopers approached the lone Jedi. Wes nodded as they approached, slipping back into his robe. “There are easier ways to get yourself killed, Master Jedi.” Theydon said with deference. Wes measured up the Lieutenant and shook his head. “I had no intention of dying today. Though I would gladly give my life for Corellia if she so demanded.” “That’s noble,” Dre murmured. Theydon ignored his subordinate. Having seen so many Jedi fall during the Sacking of Coruscant, he knew this young Jedi spoke the truth. “I have no doubt.” He studied the youth, the resiliency and purity of the Jedi before him. “Come with me…I might have a better outlet for your patriotism.” The saga continues... Chapter One - Part 5